Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ambrose shook his head slowly. "No...." he istene again, straining his hearing. "Parrots... some bugs chirping.... jungle noises. Maybe you're hearing has improved as well as your sense of smell?"

Ambrose sat by him as he ate, his stomach giving a sympathetic rumble as he realized he hadn't eaten before his jog this morning.

"And a cat's not bad. And I bet you wil be able to still write." He said, trying to cheer him up. "Well, aside from the me being a wolf and all." He tried to give him a playful punch.

Ambrose held up his hand and shook his head. "It's okay, I can get my meal later. This is for you, you need it."

He watched him carefully. "Is there anything you want to talk about...?"

Ambrose swallowed, nodding very slowly. Hearing voices...? Hoo boy. Was he crazy...? Or was there a ... problem with the serum?

"Voices...? What... kind of voices, Julian?" He asked, worried.

Ambrose did indeed shift uncomfortably. He certainly didn't hear voices... and he was really unsure as to whether the stress had cracked Julian.... or it was a side effect.

"You don't look like a monster, Julian." He said steadily. "Do... you think I Look like a monster?" He asked, knowing that Julian didn't look much worse than he himself.

"Perhaps... as much as I hate reccomending actually speaking with the staff... they might be able to suggest something. Maybe.... they'd know something or help you tune out the .. er... voices?" He suggested hesitantly.

"Well..." Ambrose's voice was still gentle, but hesitant. "Your appearance as far as .... well... featutures, isn't so different from my own as far as the severity." He tried to sound encouraging. "These voices... they're proably just your own apprehensions that you don't want to hear."

Ambrose shifted again. THe most expierence he had had with something like this was an intro to psychology, and that was no where near enough. Hadn't he heard something about psychological help on the Island? But... then again, that was like a mouse going to a cat for food. "I can't say if that would be a good idea or not, Julian... but... hearing voices is never a good sign." He winced.

"Maybe.... you are quiet, but you're a writer, right? Maybe you need to expess these emotions, these thoughts? These voices, Julian. No one else is here. These are coming from YOU.... your own mind, not anyone else's."

"It's okay to be scared. We're all scared here, just some people are more apt to admit it. Hell, I'm plenty scared with what's going on. I just mean.... maybe, instead of trying to force yourself to be happy, or put on this... er... smile, to let that fear out - however you find appropriate. Write it out - not a children's book - maybe that's part of the problem. You wear this smile, and you write for a child, and you have no outlet for these things. I.... I know how that goes, really. That's why I fence. Well, one reason. And I might be a hypocrite, but you can't bottle things down forever. IT comes to get you."

And he was being a hypocrite. Ambrose was almost as bad as it came about bottling emotions. HE had gotten a lot better since he had met Angelina and she had drilled into his head that he wasn't doing a good thing bottling his emotions. He had always had fencing, but he had over the past few years been able to admit when he was angry... or sad. But still, disdained expressing such things openly or his masculinity or gentlemanlyness would be questioned.

But, that didn't mean you couldn't find an outlet for it at all.

"Well... that's good..." Ambrose began in response to Julian's first protest. But if he wasn't forcing himself to smile, why did he do so all the time?

His brow furrowed and he leaned forward as he shook.. "You can't.... you can't what, Julian?" He rested a hand on his back as he suddenly collapsed.

His voice elevated out of the quiet, concerned (and worried) voice to alarm. "Julian!?"

Ambrose froze as he saw the immediate change in mannerisms. This was NOT good. First voices, and now this?! AND talking in the third person? Or... was he referring to a different person? That thought made the shivers course down his back all over, the fur along his back standing warily on edge. At least, at least he wasnt' hostile.... right? This was his 'duplex-mate' after all.

Ambrose swallowed and considered his words. "But... you ARE Julian.." It was almost more of a question. The fact that this was in fact Julian was no doubt in Ambrose's mind... dissociative identity disorder or not.

He eyed the tail. Most people wouldn't be comfortable controlling a new limb that quickly.... especially accepting a tail as part as onesself. It took him days before he willingly tried to wiggle his own tail nub.